twelve :: solitary

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12:56 pm
Some time during their
sentences...

She looked up at Harley. They'd been cellmates for about a year and not a single word was exchanged. The bell rung, signaling that it was time for a social period.

The doors opened and Harley stood, long and lean, and walked out first. She grinned as she glided through the crowd with ease.

Winnie walked quietly, bumping into people but not truly caring when she voiced her apologies.

She made it to the main room, tables and chairs were in their usual spots. And groups sat at their usual tables.

She sat quietly at a different table than usual.

She mumbled to herself.

"Miss Winfred?" A voice questioned, she looked up to see a guard.

"Yes sir?" The group watched her intently.

"You're coming with me," He said, she stood obediently. "You're going to solitary confinement."

"What for?"

"Miss Quinn told me that you attacked her in the sleeping hours," she was silent, Harley's lies had a way of quieting her.

He opened a metal door in a cement block. The room was a six by six foot square, chains hung on the wall. She didn't understand why, exactly.

He forced her in and closed the door.

There were quarter-sized holes on the door and the back wall, which showcased the outside world.

"Three days, sweets, then we'll let you out," the guard said and she heard his footsteps quiet with distance.

She stood and looked out of a peephole to the outside world. It was the first time in a year she saw the real world.

In the distance she saw Gotham's outline.

She began to think, and she began to dwell, and she began to become angry.

She was angry with her cellmate, Harley, for getting her in here. But was more angry with Gotham's police for locking her up like she's an animal.

So what if she was a little crazy? It just means she... thinks outside of the box...

And so she sat.

She thought and her thoughts began to tear her apart. Her stomach ached with time, her head pounded, her legs were weak.

They were breaking her.

Present day,
Wayne Mansion

"I'll be back around six," Bruce said simply as she got out of the car.

"See you then," she mustered a half-smile. He didn't even notice her silent reminiscing.

He left and she went to the door, ringing the bell. Alfred appeared and smiled.

"Winnie," He greeted, "Nice to finally meet you."

"You as well, Alfred," she mumbled, not really trying to pretend anymore. He was a butler after all, what was the point?

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"That's the most commonly told lie in the world, Miss Winnie. How are you really?" He asked, walking her to the kitchen.

"I'm fine, Alfred, I'm just thinking."

"About?" he put a kettle on the stove.

"Do you know about me? About what I've done and continue to do? Has Bruce told you?"

"Yes," he said, watching the steam.

"Then you know full and well that I've spent time at Arkham. And you know I work with the Joker and Harley Quinn, yes?" He nodded. "I was thinking about how Harley has given me burdens and had me put in solitary, countless times. Do you understand what happens when people like me are left to their own devices?"

"Yes," he opened the knife drawer.

"How, Alfred? How do you know? You're a simple butler with a simple life and master."

He picked a knife up and turned swiftly to her, bringing his arm up and throwing in one swift motion.

She looked passed her to see the knife in the wall, beside her shadow.

"You could have killed me!" She screamed angrily.

"But I didn't," he said, pouring tea into two white mugs. "You see, Winnie, I am not as simple as you believe. And as much as you would like to believe, neither is Master Bruce."

She watched the tea in her mug, "Tell me. Please, Butler, I adore secrets." She smiled wildly at herself, and watched the tea.

"I'm afraid we don't have the time," he sipped his own tea and turned the corner, she watched his exit, he was about to take a call.

"Miss Winnie, should you need me, just give a holler," he said simply, his footsteps quieted with distance.

He went to the entrance across the house and the bookshelf moved away, allowing him to open the elevator door and step in.

He accepted the call as the doors closed.

The elevator began to descend.

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